And I was doing so well. Three blogs in as many weeks. But then things did get a little crazy. I finished my job and became unemployed. I left my home in Baku, went home to the UK for a week and change, then flew home to Vegas via New York and a dear friend's wedding.

So here I am again. Las Vegas. It's 34 degrees here with winds of 34kph. Ideal sailing weather, except it's Las Vegas and I have no boat. I have a pile of boxes I need to flatten and put in the garage, clothes to put away without enough coat hangers, and a food dehydrator that is begging to be used. I've got a security system to install, and a housewarming with tacos to go to tonight.

And tomorrow, I'm off again. Driving myself, via Lake Havasu city, to Phoenix. Because I'm home, in a sense, but it won't be home properly until Amy gets here, so I have to go see her. It's about time I took a turn; she's been to Cape Town, Sydney, Seattle, New Jersey, Salisbury, Sheffield, and Baku to see me so far. In my defence, boat.

Going to Phoenix has a certain kind of poetry to it. It's funny that it should be there I go to see her, because that's where we started dating, two and a bit years and thousands of miles ago. We were planning a hot air balloon ride back then, but it was cancelled on us as we drove out there around 6am. This time of year, the start time is 445am. That's not the sort of thing you surprise someone with.....

What I'm trying to say is, I haven't started writing properly yet. Been doing things, and got things to do. Going to Phoenix is an excuse, but as excuses go, she's a pretty damned good one. And after that, she's my excuse to write. She's my excuse to get back here, finish putting the house in order, then parking my arse in front of my laptop for extended periods of time... and actually accomplishing things. The elections are over. I can stop reading all the stupidity that makes up the politicians we (barely) choose to (barely) represent us. The internet will become a tool for research and blogging about how much writing I've been doing.

Why are titles so hard?

I've been spewing on the web for a while now. Sometimes it's worth reading, sometimes it's not, and I can't make any promises to spelling or grammar because of a distressing tendency to be Drunk. And British.

Some of it's funny; some of it's not. Same goes for relevance. There's some profanity.

I was born in Germany, and have lived in Salisbury, England; Baton Rouge; Louisiana, Eugene and Portland, Oregon; Salzburg, Austria; Las Vegas, and worked on cruise ships in Alaska, Hawaii, and the Caribbean.